


His Right, His Vow

by Bellflower



Category: Samurai Warriors
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 23:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellflower/pseuds/Bellflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Motochika had to sneak into Mitsuhide's room when night fell; it was not the first time he'd had to do this, it being a habit he developed long ago during his family's visits to the Saitou's lands, but previously there had been few guards outside the guest rooms and no real concern over his actions. That was not the case anymore. Too many were angry at him to make moving around as he wished an easy task, but since when had he ever backed down from a challenge?</p>
<p>Motochika/Mitsuhide, for the 'Promise' prompt on my Cotton Candy Bingo card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Right, His Vow

Motochika had to sneak into Mitsuhide's room when night fell; it was not the first time he'd had to do this, it being a habit he developed long ago during his family's visits to the Saitou's lands, but previously there had been few guards outside the guest rooms and no real concern over his actions. That was not the case anymore. Too many were angry at him to make moving around as he wished an easy task, but since when had he ever backed down from a challenge?

Besides, the young man was prepared to face the impossible if it meant reaching Mitsuhide when he was in need.

Slipping into the dark room, Motochika slid the door shut behind him and knelt down, crawling quietly across the floor until he reached the dark shape spread across the futon towards the back of the room. Mitsuhide's breathing betrayed the fact that he was not asleep; more, his whole body looked tense and rigid. It wasn't a surprise to find him so upset, but Motochika didn't like the idea that he himself was at the root of those feelings.

“Mitsuhide,” he murmured, voice deep and concerned. “Voice your thoughts. Do not keep them buried.”

“You shouldn't be here.”

Mitsuhide's reply came quicker than expected; it was almost abrupt, though the tone prevented it from being entirely so. It seemed that he could not bring himself to be truly angry about this.

“I know.” Motochika relaxed, stretching out on his side with his gaze fixed on his friend's back. “I don't regret what I did, Mitsuhide. Does this bother you?”

“Yes!” Mitsuhide sat up in one swift movement and angled himself towards Motochika, though his gaze was fixed firmly on the floor. “You cannot just... you shouldn't just strike another like that, Lord Motochika! My Lord's nose is surely broken, and I do not know if I can calm the ill-will he now has towards you!”

No anger, then, but plenty of distress. Mitsuhide was shaking, and though there was no sign of tears Motochika knew him well enough to know that he was likely as close to crying as he ever got right now. It made Motochika feel fiercely protective; that same feeling which had motivated his attack on Mitsuhide's 'partner' earlier. The words that had come out of that man's mouth... he had shared things that he shouldn't, spat secrets and poison that would hurt Mitsuhide's gentle heart just to try and score points against Motochika himself.

Why should Motochika care about what anyone like that thought? Mitsuhide was all that mattered, and he was far too good for such scum. It was wrong in every way that Mitsuhide had to lay beneath someone who thought of him as nothing more than a pretty trophy just because it was the 'traditional' thing to do.

“I don't care what he thinks of me,” Motochika said, firm and fierce. “Let him hate me as much as he wishes. He cannot do anything to me that bothers me in the slightest, Mitsuhide; you are all that concerns me in this place, and I refuse to stand back while he does you harm of any kind.”

“He... he spoke as he had a right to,” was Mitsuhide's uncertain, murmured reply. “You know that. Please, don't make these visits hard on yourself.”

“Nothing could do that, Mitsuhide, though if you wish me to stay away then I shall.”

“Of course I don't!”

“So be it. You must accept that _I_ don't accept his right to speak of you like he did, then. That man is unworthy of you in any way, and I greatly anticipate the day that you are freed of the duty you believe yourself to have.”

Mitsuhide didn't respond to that, at least not vocally; he did raise his head and actually look at Motochika properly, however, eyes wide and somewhat confused. Why he was confused was hard to say, but the young man was naïve by nature and the additional naivety of youth made it hard for him to understand the motivations of others most of the time. Motochika knew this well. How else could Mitsuhide fail to miss how his friend felt about him? It wasn't like Motochika hid it at all; he was blunt and honest in everything he did, unwilling to tame himself for the sake of tradition or any kind of pointless 'duty.' 

Right now, with that gaze fixed upon him, Motochika found himself wondering what it would feel like to kiss Mitsuhide's lovely mouth; those lips, shaped like a small but perfectly curved bow, looked ever so soft.

“Don't worry about it, Mitsuhide,” he said, after a few moments of silence. “Your ceremony approaches, and after it is done, this won't be a concern for you anymore.”

A beat, and then, to Motochika's relief, some of the tension seeped out of Mitsuhide's posture. The young man even smiled ever so slightly, the corner of his lips lifting only just enough to be seen in the dark room. True, there was sadness in it, but it was not without hope either.

“I'm not so sure, Lord Motochika,” Mitsuhide murmured quietly. “But I shall put all of my faith in your words.”

That trust and sincerity was deeply touching; Motochika sat up and inhaled deeply as he studied his dear friend's face, looking again as he often did for the the hints of love that he was so sure were there. A slight flush, a certain sparkle, a hint of the radiance that romance gave life to... yes, surely there was something of each behind the other emotions moving through Mitsuhide's expression. It couldn't be his imagination, could it? Motochika knew he was observant, and was rather confident that he knew Mitsuhide better than any other (including the Akechi family, which some would consider arrogant but he considered an obvious truth). 

He really, really wanted to kiss him. The urge was so strong that he couldn't merely ignore it this time, and so Motochika rose his hand and touched a single finger to Mitsuhide's enticing lips. It had the instant effect of making Mitsuhide's widen eyes again, but there wasn't any irritation or hints of dislike in that dark gaze. Just surprise, and something that made Motochika's confidence soar.

The kiss that followed was clumsy, more clumsy than it should have been when one considered their experience, and almost painfully brief. But it also managed to be the most satisfying moment so far in Motochika's young life, and one that inflamed his hopes and desires far beyond what was appropriate right now.

When they drew apart Mitsuhide's gaze was focused to the side, and his cheeks more obviously flushed. Shyness... and speechlessness, apparently, because he parted his lips for a moment before snapping them shut and making a small noise of frustration. 

Endearing, attractive, beautiful. Lovely in every way, right down to his core. One day, when the ceremony was done and Mitsuhide was free from that duty he could not help but be faithful to, then maybe...

“Mitsuhide.” Motochika reached out to grasp his friend's hand firmly, squeezing it for emphasis as he spoke. “When you pull free of his grasp I shall show you how much better this can be. This I promise.”

Mitsuhide looked up again, managing to meet Motochika's gaze and held it for one long moment before bowing his head and offering a bashful smile in response. A poet lost for words, and with no clear reply to vow that was just made, but Motochika felt confident that it would not be forgotten even if years passed before it could be fulfilled.

They would rebel against tradition together, whatever others thought of them.


End file.
